Nothing To Lose
by Moonlight Silhouette
Summary: AU. Jesse is found guilty of a crime he didn't commit, and nobody believes he's innocent. Susannah Simon is looking for answers on the outside. Both are trying to clear his name but only one of them know that they're on the same side. JS
1. One: Jesse

**A.N - I think I'm going to like writing this story. Lol. The first part is a dream/memory thing, but it is important.**

**I wanted to break away from the predictability of my fics, so I've branched out into the more dramatic side of things. I really hope you guys will give me a chance.**

**Finally, this chapter should really go out to Anthony because he helped me write it. Fine tune it at least. Thank you Ant.**

**Disclaimer : I don't own any of the Mediator characters. They all belong to Meg Cabot.**

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**Chapter One**

**Jesse**

_The Mission was empty, save for three people : Father Dominic, Paul Slater and Me. Only, Father Dominic didn't know that Paul and I were here. Or that Paul was carrying a gun._

_Silently walking across the school's courtyard, Paul slightly in front of me, I was cursing the day I had told Paul I was a mediator. Back in the twelfth Grade, when he'd moved here from Seattle and started at the Junipero Mission Academy, there'd been a pesky ghost hanging around the school. I'd spotted Paul talking to him one time when no one else was around, so I told him that I too was a mediator. Him and Father Dominic are the only ones that I know of._

_We'd stayed friends throughout Senior Year, drifting apart only when we'd attended different colleges - rival colleges - both in Carmel, California._

_Then, during my junior year of college, Paul Slater suddenly made himself known again. He needed a favour and gave me an ultimatum - help him, or he would tell my classmates what I was, that I was a freak._

_And me, being as stupid as I am, I favoured my popularity more than I did my morals._

_So now Paul was on his way to murder Father Dominic - for reasons I didn't know - and I'm his accomplice._

"_Paul," I hissed. "Seriously now, do you have any idea what you're about to do?"_

"_Oh yes." Paul pulled out the gun from his back jeans pocket, the moon reflecting off the silver barrel. "I do."_

_He had a glint in his eye similar to that shining off of the gun in his hand._

_We were getting closer to the church._

"_How do you even know that Father Dominic is in there?" I asked, my voice rising in hysteria, causing Paul to spin around on his heel and point the gun threateningly at me._

"_Shut up would you?" He demanded. "God, have you even ever tried to be inconspicuous?"_

_I pushed the gun away from me, wrapping my hand around the barrel as I did so. A stupid mistake._

"_Get that gun away from me, Slater." I demanded. "I don't know why you've brought me here, just do it and lets get out of here."_

_Paul shook his head, laughing quietly._

"_You don't know now. But you will soon." He murmured something under his breath. Something I couldn't hear. "I know Father Dominic's there. I made sure he was."_

_Paul span away from me again and strode towards the doors of the church cockily, pushing them open dramatically._

"_Father D?" He called. "I'm here."_

"_Mr. Slater?" I heard Father Dominic's voice call out confusedly, out of my line of vision. "I wasn't expecting you. I was expecting -"_

"_Someone else, I know." Paul smirked. "You were expecting Jesse. On important mediator business."_

_Paul laughed as I froze. Father Dominic thought he was here to see _me_? Paul used_ me _to get Father Dominic alone to kill. I felt sick._

"_Yeah, he's here too." Paul continued. "Come on out, De Silva."_

_Swallowing through the lump in my throat, I steeled myself as I stepped into the church of my childhood. The church that Father D had married my parents in, the church he had christened me in. The church he was about to die in._

"_Oh, hello, Jesse." Father Dominic called cheerfully, unaware of his fate. "What's this about this 'important mediator business'?"_

_I couldn't meet his eyes._

"_Jesse?" Father Dominic asked concerned. "What is it?"_

"_This is about you meeting your maker." Paul scoffed, raising up the gun to Father Dominic's chest. I felt bile rise up in my throat. "Meeting that God that you love so much."_

"_Paul?"_

_In that one word, my pre-college, high school principal managed to convey so many emotions, one of which standing out far more than the rest : Betrayal._

"_Goodbye, Preacher Man."_

_Paul's words were accompanied by a single loud shot._

_Father Dominic's eyes went wide as a small circle of blood grew ever wider against his clothes, his face growing paler and his eyes glassy as he finally took his last breath. He hadn't made a single noise since the bullet entered his body._

_Paul laughed, walking over to Father Dominic and kicking him, to make sure he was dead._

"_Thanks Jess," Paul tossed me the gun which I instinctively reached out to catch. "Couldn't have done it without you."_

_I felt the tears in my eyes ball over. Oh God. What had I just allowed to happen? I ran over to Father Dominic, shaking him and trying to get some type of reaction, feeling for his pulse. It was no use. He was dead._

"_See you, dude."_

_It was as Paul raised his hand to wave at me that I realised something I hadn't before : He was wearing gloves. Meaning that none of his fingerprints had gotten anywhere, but plenty of mine had._

_Paul had gone by now, and I lifted the murder weapon in disgust, glaring at it before throwing it away. It skidded down the main aisle before bumping to a stop against one of the pews._

_I hunched over Father Dominic's body, his eyes still wide open, filled with the betrayal that had been acted against him. A single tear fell against his cheek, rolling down it and dropping off of his chin to the floor._

"_I'm so sorry, Padre." I whispered. "So, so sorry."_

_Heavy footsteps echoing around the Mission had me looking up quickly in shock. The place was filled with police officers. Flashing red and blue lights bathed the walls closest to the open doors in intervals. There was a police officer right behind me, his hand balled up in a fist over my shirt collar, pulling me up and handcuffing my hands behind my back._

"_Not as sorry as you're going to be." He snarled into my ear as he marched me away from Father Dominic's body. We passed Forensic Detectives who were picking up the murder weapon with tongs and sealing it inside a plastic bag. We passed the nuns who lived in the nearby rectory frowning at me in shame._

"_Jesse de Silva," I heard Sister Ernestine say whilst shaking her head in disapproval. "Such a nice boy."_

_I didn't even try to explain that it wasn't me who had done it. There was too much evidence against me. I may have been stupid enough to help Paul on his little jaunt but I wasn't _that_ stupid._

_But then I saw something - or, someone, rather - that I had hoped I wouldn't on this little walk of shame. Susannah Simon. The girl I was in love with, and had been since she'd moved here in the tenth grade. Only she didn't know it. It didn't matter anyway, because now she'd never like me. I was a murderer. Or as good as, anyway._

_I kept my gaze on hers until she looked away, tears overflowing in her eyes as she turned into someone else's embrace. Her step-brother Jake's._

"_I'm sorry Susannah," I whispered, knowing that she wouldn't hear me. "I'm sorry. It wasn't me. I didn't do it!"_

_The sound of laughter grew louder around me as I was forcibly shaken by unseen hands. The police officer who'd been escorting me out of the church had already pushed me into the back of his police cruiser._

"_It wasn't me, Susannah!" I tried to plead with her again._

_She didn't hear me, of course she didn't. She would never know the truth._

--- --- ---

I jolted awake with a start in my cramped prison bed to the sounds of laughter from my cellmate. He was poised over me with his hands clenched in my prison jumpsuit. Clearly he'd been the one shaking me.

"Hector had his nightmare again," Tony jeered at me moving to sit down on the bed opposite mine in the tiny space.. "Does little Hector want his mommy?"

"Shut up." I responded, head still dizzy from that memory of a year ago which had plagued me every night since. And her face. God, her face. That look of shock, of hurt.

"What I want to know is," Tony drawled, lazily lighting a cigarette, as he pushed his feet onto my bed. "Who is this Susannah you keep talking about? Is she hot? 'Cos, if she is, well, you're in here, and she's not, you know?"

"You don't know what you're talking about." I snarled at him.

He smirked at me.

I couldn't really argue, he had a point. Susannah, my _querida_, was outside of these prison walls, having the time of her life in college. The same college I had gone to. She was one of the main reasons for me helping Paul out that night, I didn't want her to find out what I was.

I should have just told her myself. Then I wouldn't be stuck in here. I kicked the wall angrily.

"That won't get you out of here." Tony told me. "I tried once. Got put in containment for violence."

I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks for that."

He shrugged. Tony had been sentenced to five years for armed robbery and actual bodily harm. A bank teller had tried to be brave and attempt to stop Tony from leaving the premises after he'd robbed it and had been shot in the leg for his troubles.

"De Silva." The prison guard spat out my name, as he did all of the other prisoners. "You've got a visitor."

I raised one of my eyebrows in surprise. Over a year in this place and I hadn't gotten one visitor. Not even from my family - they had disowned me when I was found guilty, when my fingerprints had been found all over the gun. And the body. They didn't even visit me on my 21st birthday. All I had gotten that day was a few hundred punches from the other inmates deciding to give me birthday beatings - emphasis on beating - including the one for luck. I'd had to spend my birthday in the hospital wing.

"Come on." The guard barked. "We haven't got all day."

Shuffling my feet along the floor as I walked, purely to annoy the prison guard, I let him cuff my hands behind my back as he lead me towards the visitors area.

"Sit."

I was pushed onto a rigid, bright orange chair that sat opposite a similar one before my hands were released. In between me and the, as of yet, still empty seat opposite, was a divider of glass, each side with their own telephone for the prisoners and visitors to communicate.

Drumming my fingers onto the divider, I waited for my visitor to be brought in.

The door swung open, and I saw the blue of the police officer's uniform before he led in a girl. A very familiar girl. I gasped. It was Susannah. Was she my visitor?

I barely let my hopes be raised before they were dashed as she was led to a prisoner further down than me. Of course she wasn't here to see me. She hated me.

I turned to see who she was visiting, recognition dawning on me as I remembered her step-brother Brad having been brought in for a few months for joyriding. His time was almost up, if I remembered correctly. Lucky for him. I still had another fourteen years. At least.

The tapping of a finger against the window in front of me had me looking up at it startled. Paul Slater was sitting there with the phone against his ear, gesturing for me to pick up my own.

"What do you want?" I demanded when I did.

"Hey, hey," his voice travelled through the phone to my ear. "Don't be so rude. I may not come back to visit you again."

He smirked at me, much more wicked than Tony's had been earlier.

"Good." I spat. "I don't want you to visit me."

"Well that's too darn bad," Paul told me matter-of-factly. "Because I'm visiting you now, and I have something I need to talk to you about."

My grip tightened around the receiver of the phone as I nodded my head slightly for Paul to continue.


	2. Two: Suze

**A.N - I know I've said it before, and you're probably sick of hearing this, but I thought I should just tell readers of this story that don't read the others. Update may not be as regular now that school has started again. My mum has threatened to ban me from Fanfiction if I don't work hard enough. And I quite like fanfiction.**

**Lol. anyway, thank you to everybody who reviewed Chapter One. I'm so glad you like it an dthat you're willing to give it a chance. I was so nervous about posting this.**

**xD**

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**Chapter Two**

**Suze**

Geez, the police officers in this place were not exactly going to win 'happiest person of the year' award. They were all so serious, all of the time. It's not like I was an inmate - I'm not going to do anything wrong.

I was too scared to even attempt to start a conversation with the guard that led me to the visitor's room, keeping my head held high as I walked along behind him.

"Here we are." He smiled at me, the first show of emotion he'd given me in the past five minutes. "Now, be careful in there. A lot of those men haven't seen a pretty girl in months, they might go a bit crazy."

My eyes widened.

"Oh, don't worry," he added, catching on to my worry. "We have the best security system in the whole of California."

I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders.

"Well, then," I smiled at the now-friendly guard. "It's just my step-brother, he knows not to mess with me."

He chuckled.

"You'll be fine in there." He told me warmly, opening the door for me. "In you go."

I nodded at him thankfully and walked through the door confidently.

Immediately I felt the gaze of half a dozen prisoners, all glancing at me to see if I was their visitor. The majority of them focused their attentions elsewhere when they realised I wasn't who they were waiting for, but one gaze burned into the back of my head. I glanced around the room sneakily, a sharp gasp escaping from me when I saw him.

Hector de Silva. Jesse. My crush from the tenth grade and beyond. Even when he'd murdered Father Dominic, it's not like I could exactly turn it off. You can't control who you love. And, yes, I did love Jesse De Silva.

Shaking away my thoughts, I reached Brad's station and picked up the phone that would connect us.

"Suze!" He exclaimed down his own phone. "Dude, am I glad to see you. This place is horrible."

"You've been here for like a month." I reminded him.

"Doesn't mean that this place gets any more accommodating." He countered.

I rolled my eyes.

"Well, you should have thought twice before stealing that car."

"It was a joke!" He insisted. "A prank! That's all."

I shrugged.

"I'm only here because of mom anyway," I told him. "She insisted that I come to see you. You know, because her, Andy, Jake and David have already been."

"Way to make a guy feel loved, Suze." Brad said dejectedly.

I laughed down the line.

"But, on the plus side, I hear gossip that's been floating around campus." Brad went to the same college as me. As did Jesse.

"Really?" He seemed happier at this news.

"Yeah-huh," I told him. "Rumour has it, Debbie Mancuso plans on waiting until the night you're released, and then she's going to drag you to your dorm and not let you leave until at least a week later."

His eyes widened and glittered with excitement. I had to hold in my laughter.

"Are you serious, Suze?" He asked. "Because if you're messing with me, about something like this, then that's just cruel."

My laughter exploded out of me.

"Suze." He warned.

"Sorry," I choked out through my laughter. "I embellished a bit. She does plan on seeing you the night you're released though."

"Oh, score!" He said to himself.

I was saved from having to reply when I heard a muffled familiar voice. The whole room grew silent and turned to face the prisoner who'd been shouting.

"Quick, Brad, what did he say?" I asked.

Jesse's words had been muffled by the glass window running the length of the room between prisoners and their visitors.

"He said 'There's no way in hell she did, Slater'." Brad muttered to me.

Frowning, I strained my ears to hear Paul's reply.

"Well?" Brad prompted.

I shook my head.

"Paul's good," I told him. There was no doubts in my mind that it was Paul Slater that Jesse was talking to. The two of them hadn't really gotten on since graduating High School. "He's talking too quietly."

Plus, Paul had been the one to phone the police after Jesse had killed Father Dominic. The lump in my throat that appeared every time I thought of that night made its presence known.

I wish I hadn't been sent to pick up the take-away that night. I wish I didn't have to see Jesse calmly walking towards the police cruiser, not even denying the fact that he had committed a _murder_. I wish I could forget.

Jesse's voice raised again. I looked over at Brad.

"'You're a liar'," he repeated without my pushing him. "Oh, the guards are coming. They're taking him away."

My heart jumped up to my throat.

I heard the commotion of Jesse being taken away kicking and screaming in anger towards Paul who just sat there calmly. I kept my gaze on Jesse, watching as he frantically glanced around the room, our gazes locking as his eyes met mine.

"Don't," he mouthed, exaggerating the movement so that I could read his lips. "Please, no."

I felt confusion twist on my face but I nodded nonetheless. He looked so wild, so frantic with worry. What else could I do, but agree? I did love the guy after all.

After relaying his message to me, he went limp in the guard's arms, allowing himself to be dragged from the room. I shuddered at the thought of how they would punish him for his fit of anger.

Jesse really didn't deserve to be in here, not really. Anyone who met him would say that. Though I knew he had to be. I was there that night. I saw him march out of the Mission, blood staining his clothes and an indescribable look on his face. Like, he'd committed the murder, and now nothing mattered.

"Hello?" Brad was practically punching the window to gain my attention. "Earth to Suze?"

I saw the door open from the corner of my eye and watched as Paul glided out of the room casually.

"I have to go Brad." I told him distractedly. "I'll see you soon, and I'll tell mom you said hi."

I hung up the phone without waiting for him to reply and hurried out of the room after Paul. If anybody knew what that whole fight, I suppose, was about. It would be Paul Slater.

Besides, I wanted to know who this '_she_' was, and what she supposedly did.

--- --- ---

"Hey, Paul!" I called, finally catching up with him a block away from the prison. "Wait up!"

Paul stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder coolly.

"Suze!" He turned around to pull me into a hug when he saw me. "Hey!"

"Yeah, um, hi," I muttered pushing him away slightly. Enough to get out of his grip, but not enough to offend him. I needed answers. He'd _never _greeted me like that once in High School, and we hadn't really spoken much since the beginning of college. "Listen, I was wondering, about what -"

"I know," he cut me off. "What happened in there, right?"

He gestured in the direction of the state prison.

"Um, yeah." I nodded. "It's just, that fight, between you and Jesse, was totally strange."

Paul's eyes narrowed as I said Jesse's name before he laughed suddenly.

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled almost nervously, as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess we just kind of antagonise each other."

"Guess you do." I agreed.

"Listen, Suze," Paul directed me towards the wall opposite the sidewalk before pinning me against it. His chest was flat against my own and I could hear his breath in my ear. "I'll tell you _all _about mine and Jesse's little discussion back there." He smirked. "If you go out with me."

Wow, Paul seemed a little … crazier, than I remembered. Sure, he'd been interested in me before but I'd hardly noticed. My head had been full of Jesse back then. Still is, to be totally honest to myself.

"So, Suze?" Paul insisted, his breath rasping rather serial-killer-like in my ear. I was starting to get scared. "What do you say? One little date for me to reveal everything I know about that night. And what happened just then, of course."

"Sure." I breathed back, hiding my fear. "Pick me up tonight at seven."

That would give me a whole five hours to brace myself.

"From the campus gates." I arranged.

"It's a date," he whispered before pushing his lips down on my own.

I kept my lips clenched shut and let Paul kiss out of me whatever he wanted to. He could kiss, sure, but he sure as hell wasn't getting his tongue anywhere _near _me.

"See you then." He whispered as he pulled away, sticking his hands into his trouser pockets as he walked away happily. I think I even heard him _whistle_.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Strange.

--- --- ---

As I began the walk back to my campus dorm room, I thought over Jesse's words.

'_There's no way in hell she did, Slater!'_

Who? Did what?

'_You're a liar.'_

What about?

It was all horribly confusing.

Then there were his final words to me.

'_Don't. Please, no.'_

Don't what? Could Jesse have known, somehow, that Paul was planning on asking me out? Was that him warning me not to say yes?

I felt my eyes close as I leaned against the campus walls, their coolness soothing the fire on my forehead.

All I could see behind my closed eyelids was Jesse's agonised face as he was dragged out of the visiting room by two big, strong-looking guards. Poor Jesse.

The image changed to that night. His face bathed in red and blue as he locked his eyes with mine, telling me something with them. Something I had never fully deciphered, no matter how many times I saw them in my dreams.

His words were the last thing that assaulted me. The look on his face as he mouthed those words to me …

My eyes snapped open quickly. There was something suspicious here. Something going on between Jesse and Paul. And I was going to find out what.

Starting on my … date tonight. It pained me to think of that word. I was only doing this for Jesse. To try and figure out all these frustrating clues that he'd left lying around the whole of Carmel.

Yeah, it's official. Susannah Simon has turned Nancy Drew. All for the love of a murderer.


	3. Three: Jesse

**A.N - I know this probably isn't the update that you guys wanted to see from me, but I felt the need to write it.**

**What you should be happy to know is that next on my update list is Te Amo, Querida.**

**xD**

**I hope you like this anyway. And I apologise for the delay in posting it.**

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**Chapter Three**

**Jesse**

Though I'd been pacing my cell for a good hour now, I was still no where closer to venting my anger. What Paul said couldn't be true. Susannah would never …

I screwed up my eyes and raised my fist to my head, forcing myself to calm down.

"Would it be terribly rude of me," Tony began, patronisingly polite. "If I asked what was going on?"

I sighed. Now might be the time to share with my cellmate that I shouldn't actually be here. He was still under the impression that he was living with a murderer.

"Look, Tony." I sat down on the bunk beside him. "I'm innocent. I shouldn't be in here."

He scoffed.

"Yeah, sure." He rolled his eyes as he lay back on the bed, his arms folded underneath his head as he kicked me out of the way. "And I'm getting out of here tomorrow."

"Tony," I snapped. "It's true. I'm innocent. The guy who _really _killed Father Dominic is out there." I gestured wildly to the wall that separated us from the rest of the world. "He was my visitor."

"Wait a minute." Tony sat up sharply, turning questioning eyes on me. "You shot a priest? Dude, that's low."

"I didn't shoot anybody!"

Tony wasn't listening to me. Instead, he sat up and waved off my claims.

"Yeah, yeah." His eyes lazily travelled the room, seeing the same things we saw every day. "Now what was that about in the visiting room? I heard some guys talking, and, from the sounds of things, you should thank your lucky stars that you wasn't put in confinement."

"I told you!" I exclaimed. "Paul was here."

Tony looked deep in thought.

"The 'murderer'?" He asked.

I sat down heavily on my own bunk. He obviously wasn't going to believe me - who would? The police had gathered all of that evidence against me, I'd confessed. I hadn't really helped myself.

"Right," Tony continued. "So, what did he do that made you about attack him?"

I mimicked his actions and lay down on the bunk, one knee bent and the other dangling off of the bed.

"Just said a few things I didn't like, is all." I mumbled.

"Like something about Susannah?"

My breath caught in my throat.

Yes, Susannah was the exact person he'd mentioned.

According to Paul Slater - and I wasn't sure how much of this was true - Susannah and him had been going out since my arrest. She'd turned to him in her grief. I tried to shut my eyes against the images that tortured my mind of the two of them together. It only made them worse.

The reason for Paul's visit though, was the reason that caused my reaction - the rest I'd taken silently, refusing to give him the satisfaction getting a rise out of me.

Paul and Susannah were getting married. Tonight was their engagement party.

Which, of course, is when I reacted.

"It's true," Paul had said cockily, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "She said yes just this morning."

"There's no way in hell she did, Slater!" I had screamed, standing up whilst kicking back my chair.

"Oh, there was a way, de Silva." He'd replied smoothly and quietly into the phone. "She spent the night at my place and I proposed after waking up with her in my arms. I knew I could never let her go. Especially not to the likes of a _murderer_ like you."

I refused to believe it.

"You're a liar!"

Paul's chuckle sounded down the connection as two police guards grabbed each of my arms and tried to pull me away.

"Oh, believe me, I'm not." Paul sneered at me. "I bet she'll even leave at the same time as I do. She loves me, you see."

The guards succeeded in pulling me away, the phone dropping out of my grip and resting with a soft crash against the wall.

My eyes scanned the visitors frantically.

I found Susannah looking at me concernedly, her pretty green eyes wide in confusion.

"Don't." I mouthed at her, hoping that she would listen to my plea. "Please no."

I collapsed into the guards arms. I'd done all I could. The guards dragged me away whilst I kept my eyes directed on Susannah.

Paul was right. And I hated it. He didn't get to be right.

I shut my eyes in pain.

Susannah had left at the same time Paul had.

If he was right about that, then how was I suppose to know if everything else he'd told me had been true as well?

--- --- ---

I refused to leave my cell that night. Not even to get the substance they tried to pass of as food.

Partly, I was ashamed. I didn't want the other inmates looking at me like I'd gone crazy - everyone was certain to have heard about my outburst earlier. But mostly, I didn't want to see Susannah's step-brother. I was afraid that he'd confirm what Paul had told me. That the reason for Susannah's visit to him had been to announce her engagement also.

"Jesse?" A kind, familiar voice questioned.

"Go away." I murmured into my pillow, not looking up.

I didn't want any company.

"Jesse?" The voice sounded again and I realised why it sounded so familiar.

My head jerked upwards.

"Father Dominic?" I asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Father Dominic's ghost smiled at me. He looked exactly the same as the day he'd died. His bright, blue eyes twinkled at me kindly and the snowy white hair dusted the top of his head, as always. The only difference was his ghostly glow.

The ghostly glow that reminded me who'd put me here. And who was now getting married to the girl I loved.

"Why are you here, Padre?" I asked him, my voice suddenly drained. "It's been over a year since your … um, death. Why now?"

"I came back because of Susannah." He admitted. "I'm worried about her."

His words reminded me of my earlier grief.

"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked sullenly. "I'm in here. She's out there. Preparing for her wedding."

Those last words were barely audible to myself. It was like if I said them out loud it made them all the more true.

"Wedding?" Father Dominic echoed. "Jesse, whatever …" He shook his head as he trailed off. "Never mind. Jesse, she's going out with Paul tonight, and -"

"I know!" I cut him off angrily, punching my pillow in anger. "I know, alright? He came to see me earlier. Paul, I mean."

Father Dominic looked slightly taken aback.

"Oh, well then." He stuttered. "What are you going to do about it?"

I turned wide, shocked eyes on the priest.

"What do you mean?" I asked him quietly. "I'm in here, she's out there. There's not much I_ can _do to stop this!"

Father Dominic sighed in defeat.

"I suppose." He began before taking a deep breath. "I suppose the thought of her going out with my murderer just makes me feel worried. That's probably it."

I froze as I was reminded what Paul was.

"He wouldn't hurt her." I whispered. "He wouldn't."

Would he?

"I hope not." Father Dominic answered my unasked question. "But, you can never quite know with that boy. After all," he smiled wryly, "I never expected him to kill me."

The room around me was deathly silent as I slowly raised my head and glanced around at my surroundings. Father Dominic was gone - be it forever, or not, I didn't know.

I glanced around the room frantically.

"Padre?" I asked, checking that he was actually gone. "Father Dominic? Are you here?"

The door to the cell clanged open.

"And now you're talking to yourself." Tony barged in and collapsed onto his bunk, one hand going to rub his chest subconsciously. "I swear, Hector. You're going crazy, man."

I laughed hollowly.

"That guy Brad was asking for you." Tony announced through a yawn. "Said he had something to tell you."

My ears perked.

"Did he say where he was?"

The buzzer sounded as the programmed lock-down clicked into place.

"Probably locked in his cell." Tony jeered. "Like a good little jail mate."

I rolled my eyes, falling back down on my bed.

"You're a jerk." I told him, polite, even in my name-calling. It was the way I'd been brought up.

"And you're crazy." He retorted.

The lights shut off and I stared into the darkness, relaying the days events.

Yeah, I was going crazy all night. Going crazy not knowing whether or not Susannah was with Paul.

Or if she was safe.


	4. Four: Suze

**A.N - I'm so sorry for the delay - over a month, sheesh - and not particularly happy with this chapter. I just felt like I should post something.**

**Hope I still have _some _readers left. :)**

**

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**Chapter Four**

**Suze**

Sitting at this elaborately-decorated table, candles flickering in the dim light, with Paul Slater made me realise something. I was so right not to go out with him in high school.

Paul Slater is one of those 'look-how-much-money-I-have-I-can-buy-you-anything' types.

Personally, I tended to lean more towards the 'look-at-me-I'm-so-amazingly-hot-and-Spanish' types. Like, Jesse.

Which reminded me why I was here in the first place, smiling so widely and fake for so long that my cheeks were starting to crack.

Paul knew what happened that night. He knew what made Jesse act the way he did earlier today. Now I was faced with the daunting task of pushing conversation over to Jesse; A hard one, considering Paul's tendency to talk about himself.

Like, right now, for example. Paul had spent the last ten minutes talking about some stupidly boring tennis match he'd participated in the night before. I twisted my fork in my spaghetti, bored.

And Paul just happened to be paying attention at that one moment.

"Am I boring you, Miss Simon?" He asked with a quirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Not at all," I replied, feigning interest. "I'm just no so clued-up about tennis. And I haven't understood anything you've said for the past … yeah."

I smiled sheepishly at him, flirtatiously twisting a strand of hair around my finger for good measure.

"Then why do I get the feeling that you only agreed to this date to find out about De Silva?" He countered, a glint of something entering his eye.

_Because it's true._

"You pushed me against a wall and propositioned me until I agreed." I replied quickly, raising my eyebrow at him.

"True," he muttered, pushing his fork into his lasagne. "Very true. So, what do you want to know?"

"Firstly, what happened that night?" I swallowed. "The night that Jesse shot Father Dominic."

Paul sighed and put his fork down on his plate, before raising his hand to his temples and rubbing them in small circles.

"Jesse phoned me," Paul eventually began talking after minutes of silence. "That night. He said that he had plans to, well, do what he did. I tipped off the police before hand and they were waiting, in case Jesse actually went through with the murder. I only turned up to convince him not to do it."

Paul stopped, his head dropping heavily on his hand.

"He turned the gun on me and told me to stay out of it." Paul's voice sound so shook-up, so sincere. "Or he would kill me. Then he turned the gun on Father Dominic, and shot him."

I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"I ran out of there before he decided to come after me after all." He finished.

There's no way that that could be the truth. Jesse would never do anything like that. Jesse wasn't capable of _murder_.

It was so unfair. All of it.

"Anything else you want to know?" Paul looked as close to tears as myself.

Either this was true, or Paul was a _really _good actor.

And I didn't know which option to believe.

"The fight." I whispered. "What happened earlier today?"

"Ah, yes." Paul nodded his head in agreement. "That."

He paused, considering his next words.

"That was about you."

I blinked – once, twice – before opening my mouth to say something, only to have it fall shut again.

Me?

Paul … and Jesse were fighting about … _me?!_

I heard Jesse's words again. _There's no way in hell she did, Slater. You're a liar._

"What about me?" I managed to choke out.

Paul smiled at me, somewhat patronizingly.

"It appears that our friend the murderer had a little crush on you, Suze." Paul announced. "He wasn't too happy to find out that you had agreed to go out with me."

I felt a frown settle on my face, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"But, I didn't agree to go out with you until after the fight." I reminded him.

Paul shrugged with an easy smile.

"As I said, we antagonise each other."

Remaining silent, his final mouthed words to me suddenly made more sense. _Don't. Please, no._

_Don't_ go out with him.

That's what Jesse wanted to tell me about. Warn me about, even.

It was a pity that my little date with Paul hadn't answered all of my questions, instead it had just created more.

Like what was so bad about me going out with Paul Slater, for example.

So many things here didn't make sense and I was starting to feel like I'd plunged myself into the deep end, with no idea how to swim. It was a hopeless cause. I'm an English major, not law, or a detective. How was I supposed to solve a murder that someone had already been convicted for? That was that. Case closed.

The only thing that I had a lead on so far was the gut feeling that Jesse didn't do it.

And with that came the question. _Who did?_

--- --- ---

The evening had dragged after that. Paul had slipped back into his 'it's-all-about-me' phase, launching into some conversation about how he wrote this essay for his professor that only got him a B when it so obviously should have been an A.

Seriously. That is what I had to put up with for the next hour and a half. Right up until he dropped me off at the campus gates at nine o'clock sharp.

"Well," he whispered, his breath hot on my neck, making me jump. "Thanks for letting me take you out tonight." He leaned in further. "Even if it was just to get information out of me."

"What?" I asked. "No. I came out with you because I wanted to, not because you had 'information'."

I smiled at him and hoped he wouldn't see through my lie.

"Oh, really?" He asked, leaning back in his driver's seat amused.

I nodded.

"Yeah," I continued with my nodding. "Really."

"Then prove it."

He spoke matter-of-factly, as if it was obvious how I should prove my honesty. When I just sat there, confused, he rolled his eyes and leaned towards me so that his mouth was right next to my ear.

"Kiss me." He whispered deeply.

My eyes widened. Oh. _Oh!_

Kiss him?

I shut my eyes to calm myself down.

It's just one little kiss, Suze. I told myself. It's not like you haven't done this before.

With my eyes clenched tightly shut still, I reached my hands to his face and kissed him, all the while pretending it was someone I actually like. Someone like Jesse. Though I still didn't let his tongue near me – something that I could still get away with, after all, it's only our first date.

I pulled away shortly after, resisting the urge to sigh Jesse's name. Paul probably wouldn't be too happy about that.

Paul's meaty hand attached itself to my cheek, pulling me back to him.

"That wasn't a kiss." He told me, his other hand resting on my stomach. "_That _was just a peck. I'll show you what a _kiss_ is."

He undid his seatbelt and leaned over me, pushing my back down into the seats of his convertible – hood down, I should probably add – pinning me with his body.

I tolerated it slightly, allowing him to 'kiss' me a little more further than I would have liked to. I pushed him away only when his hand started to inch further up underneath my shirt.

There was no way I was rounding second base with him on a first date, particularly when I didn't even like the guy.

"Now that," he paused, gasping for breath. "Was a kiss."

I nodded, feigning breathlessness also. However much I hated him, he was my source of all things Jesse on that night. I couldn't afford to push him away.

"I suppose I better let you go now." He stated, somewhat reluctantly.

I nodded my agreement, again, before thanking him for a lovely night and hopping out the car.

As soon as his car was out of sight, my hand was to my lips, wiping them of all things Paul and spitting _him _out of my mouth.

"Ew, ew. _EW!_" I cursed to myself, shivering at the thought of him touching me again. "Gross!"

My dorm-mate and best friend Cee Cee wasn't in when I got home, leaving me with my thoughts.

Was all of this really worth it? After all, Jesse had _confessed_ to murdering Father Dominic. I was trying to prove that a man who claimed to be guilty, innocent. I was a fool. There was too much evidence against him. Jesse was the murderer.

Yet I still believe that he doesn't have it in him to kill a man. Not Jesse de Silva, no way. Though I'm starting to suspect that Paul might be more then crazy enough …

If only Father Dominic was here to tell me himself.


	5. Five: Jesse

**A.N - I'm sorry it's short, it just felt like a good place to stop. :)**

**To Emily, cos she wanted me to update this. And we are all still waiting for MG ;) Hehe.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Chapter Five**

**Jesse**

The night was a long one, I was unable to shut my eyes without seeing the different ways that Paul and Susannah could be … consummating their engagement. It seemed my mind was determined to torture me.

Plus there was the idea of Brad Ackerman –Susannah's step-brother – wanting to see me. The thoughts of what he might want to see me for didn't help in my quest to fall asleep.

Tony was snoring happily in the bunk opposite, another factor keeping me from sleeping. I glared at him enviously in the darkness. Sleeping happily as his sentence increasingly got shorter with every hour that passed whilst mine loomed over me at every turn.

Everything I did was being monitored, and analysed, to decide when I should be released, be it twenty years, or just fifteen. The situation was almost laughable. Either way I'd be here until I was at least thirty. By then, Susannah and Paul would have gotten married and settled down with children of their own. Children that should be mine. If only I'd told the truth when I'd been arrested and admitted that it was Paul who committed the murder, and not me.

Not that they would have believed me. They had too much evidence against me.

A familiar ghostly glow brightened the dank cell.

"Jesse?" It was Father Dominic. "Oh, good, you're awake. You don't have to reply, I understand that that might be difficult to explain to your cell mate."

I only nodded in response.

"I just thought that you should know that Susannah returned back safely tonight." He continued and I couldn't help the relief that flooded through me.

"Thank you," I mouthed to the priest as he smiled in response.

"You know," he stated. "I hate the thought of you in here, taking the blame for something that Paul Slater did."

I could have sworn I saw tears gathering in the corner of his blue eyes.

"But I know you, Jesse de Silva." He smiled wryly. "You're too kind for your own good."

He disappeared without another word.

Yeah, I was too kind, too _nice_. So much so that I was surprised I'd survived here as long as I had done and I didn't know how much more I had in me to face.

Knowing that Susannah was safe should have enabled me to sleep, if the world was fair. However, it only led me to thoughts of why she'd been out so late to begin with – I knew deep down that Paul would never hurt her. It wasn't that that I'd been worried about.

So, the night went on, and I was still unable to fall asleep.

Instead, my mind deigned it appropriate to torture me some more.

**--- --- ---**

The next morning came quicker then I expected, and Tony jolted awake with a snore before looking over at me with bleary eyes.

"Dude, you look like crap." He stated.

"Yeah, thanks."

You learn quickly to ignore people in here.

I was out of my cell the second the automatic lock-down was over for the night, first to the cafeteria – if it could be called so – and sat down, waiting for the arrival of Brad Ackerman.

It wasn't long before I felt a hand clamp on my shoulder.

"Jesse, dude!" To my relief, it was Brad. "I've been looking all over for you. Your cellmate said you got out of there pretty quickly this morning."

"Yeah," I ran a hand through my hair nervously. "I felt … claustrophobic."

It was the best excuse I could come up with. I couldn't exactly say 'I needed to find you so you could talk to me about your step-sister.'

"Ah, right, well," he sat down next to me. "I wanted to talk to you."

I raised an eyebrow as a gesture to continue, acting serious whilst my heart was beating a mile a minute.

"I just wanted to ask you something," he began quietly. "Why is it that Suze is so interested in you?"

"What?!" I asked incredulously.

"Yesterday, during that little show you and Paul put on, all she was interested in was what you were saying."

"Really?" I asked him.

"Yeah, man," he continued. "She ran out of here the second you were taken away."

I clenched my fist as I grimaced.

"Don't remind me." I spoke quietly. So quietly that Brad didn't seem to hear it.

"All I can say to it all is …"

He trailed off, looking uncertain before a glint of determination settled in his eyes and he turned to me with a hard stare.

"Leave my sister the hell alone!" He shouted, cocking back his fist and punching me once, in the gut, knocking the wind out of me, before hitting me on the lip causing it to burst open and blood to trickle down my chin. "She's too good to mix with the likes of you."

Still in shock, I choked out my next words.

"And what about Paul Slater?" I asked him, standing up whilst trying to regain my breath. The other inmates had circled us, cheering us on as the guards watch uninterested. They only got involved if someone ended up unconscious.

"What about him?" He retorted. "He's a damn sight better then you."

I felt the unfairness of my situation rush back to me. Of course Paul was better than I was. I was a murderer.

Giving up on the fight, I turned my back to Brad and began to walk away.

"Hey, De Silva!" He called.

Steeling myself, I turned around again and felt a blinding pain explode in my right eye as it was greeted with Brad's fist.

I know now why he was a wrestler in high school. Brad Ackerman fought dirty.

"Remember this." His words were laced in disgust but I couldn't blame him.

I wouldn't want my sisters involved with a murderer either.

**--- --- ---**

It was only an hour later when the guard came to my cell.

He looked at me as I clutched my pillowcase to my lip and laughed when he saw the state I was in.

"Visitor," he barked out gruffly before adding. "You don't look too good."

I placed the bloodied pillowcase back down on to my bed and stood up, holding out my wrists to be handcuffed hesitantly.

Considering whom my last, and only, visitor was, I had a right to be cautious.

"Yeah, I know." I mumbled in response to his statement, hating the feeling of captivity that came over me.

Without another word, the guard pushed me in the direction of the visiting room, and sat me down in the same hard-backed seat as before.

I took it as an omen.

When the door opened, I held my breath, hoping I wouldn't see Paul Slater yet again so he could brag about how well he and Susannah _got on_ last night.

Imagine my surprise when I saw none other then Susannah Simon herself.

And that she sat down opposite me.


	6. Six: Suze

**A.N - I'm so sorry about the delay in updating this - I really have no excuse. **

**I hope everyone had a great holiday - whatever it is you celebrate. And that you have an awesome new year. Though I promise to update a story before then. xD**

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**Chapter Six**

**Suze**

I was crazy. There was no other explanation. I couldn't remember anything before sitting down in that chair and being greeted with the sight of Jesse's handsome - yet beaten up - face. Either I was crazy, or losing my mind.

Seeing him again was like a dream - only this time I could actually talk to him.

When I managed to get my brain to tell my arm to pick up the phone, of course.

Jesse managed to move first, his arm shot out to lift up his receiver before tapping lightly on the window that separated us and startled me into doing the same.

"Hey, Jesse." I whispered. "How's it going?"

He chuckled deeply - and a little sardonically, though I could just be hearing things.

"As good as it can be," he admitted.

"Your face …"

I gestured sympathetically at his swollen lip and black eye. Someone had really done a number on him.

"It's nothing," he assured me. "Barely hurts."

I nodded, accepting his answer. I'd forgotten what it was I'd came here to say to him.

"Listen, Jesse," I began cautiously. "I was wondering if you could tell me about, well, your … friendship with Paul Slater. You know … before you came here."

I bit my lip gently as I watched a play of emotions swirl about his face. First there was shock, quickly followed by anger and, if I'm not mistaken, a light tinge of jealousy.

"Paul Slater," Jesse choked out behind gritted teeth. "Isn't worth talking about."

"Oh."

I felt disappointment roll over me in waves.

"Wait, Susannah." Jesse's voice startled me and my grip upon the receiver grew momentarily tighter. I glanced up and followed his gaze which was rested on my left hand. "There's no ring."

My eyebrows screwed together in confusion.

"No ring?" I repeated. "Of course not, why would there be?"

Jesse paused for a second, his face stoic, before his mouth twisted into the biggest grin I'd ever seen in his face.

"You're not engaged!" He spoke loudly and excitedly.

"Um, no." To say that this conversation was confusing would be an understatement. "Should I be?"

"No!" Jesse was quick to answer. "No."

I smiled at him.

"Are you going to explain that outburst?" I teased.

"Not at this moment in time," Jesse looked serious, yet I could see the smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No."

I cursed myself for turning this conversation back onto nastier topics.

"Jesse," I began in a hushed tone. "Call me crazy, but I'm not sure that I believe you killed Father Dominic." When he didn't reply, I continued. "Seeing Paul these past few days only confirmed it. He's a little … out there. He told me that he was the one to call the police that night - that you'd told him what you were planning on doing."

I paused, running through the conversation again in my head, before shaking it, not happy with what I was remembering.

"I just don't think that it makes any sense." I raised my eyes to look at his wide open, shocked, brown ones. "You and Paul barely talked at all through High School - why would you call _him_ of all people? I think he's hiding something, covering his tracks."

"Susannah," Jesse managed to say. "Querida, _please_ don't get involved. You're right when you say that Paul Slater is 'out there'. He's unpredictable."

I'm ashamed to say that everything after the word 'querida' wasn't registered in my mind.

"I'm going to try to prove your innocence, Jesse." I spoke determinedly. "I know in my heart that it wasn't you."

"Susannah, you're the first person to say that to me," he choked up. "Even my sisters haven't…"

"Well." I shrugged. "It's true, I believe. And really quite obvious. You left a lot of clues all over Carmel, you know. Now it's just up to me to sort them out for you."

"Querida, I'm serious," he persisted. "As much as I am relieved to know that, finally, someone believes that I am innocent, I cannot having you risking yourself to free me."

"But you don't deserve to stay _here_, either." I pouted. "You've already suffered a year for his crime."

Jesse dropped his gaze to the table in front of him, his hand was splayed out on top of it.

"Susannah," he muttered, never removing his eyes from his hands - which meant that, thankfully, he didn't notice my almost imperceptible shiver at his use of my full name. "Though I don't want you to get involved, I see you're determined enough."

I nodded, even though he wasn't looking.

"And so, I beg of you," He raised his gaze up to lock with mine as his hand moved to splay across the window. "Please don't do anything stupid."

I shook my head and laughed with a '_psshaw!_'

"It's okay, Jesse." I winked at him. "I can handle myself."

And I so could. Paul Slater be warned: Susannah Simon is on your case.

People really are fools for love. What I was insisting he let me do for him had only just sunk in.

I was volunteering to spend extra time with a murderer. A real one.

Which brings us back to the idea if me being crazy…

"Promise me, querida?" He raised his one scarred eyebrow and looked pointedly at his hand, which was still against the word.

Quickly catching on to what he wanted, I placed my hand where his was. If I had been paying enough attention, I swear I would've felt the heat radiating from him.

Instead, my eyes remained lost in his smouldering stare.

"I promise you, Jesse." I swore down the line. "I will get you out of here, and not get hurt in the process."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good." His lips flashed me a brilliant smile. "Of course, I'd rather you did nothing for me at all …"

I shook my head, laughing quietly again.

"Sorry, Jesse. That's not catching on."

It was so easy to see why I loved this guy - he was so easy, so fun, to be around.

"Five more minutes, visitors!"

The jail warden's voice was an unwelcome interruption. I can't believe that they could put a time limit on what could be a prisoner's only form of sanity for the day.

Knowing that my time with Jesse was running out made my pulse accelerate to unbelievably high proportions.

"Jesse," I spoke quickly, needing to get this out in the open. "There's one more thing - about Paul … and me. I know this is going to sound really unbelievable but … believe me."

I took a deep breath before continuing.

"Paul and I are mediators - we see dead people."

I risked a look at Jesse's face. He looked as shocked as I'd expected him to be.


	7. Seven: Jesse

**A.N - Sorry for the delay. I really am. I'm hoping to update quite a few stories pretty quickly. xD**

**Chapter for Millie, whom I haven't spoken to much in the past week. I miss you! Damn MSN. And various other things that kept us from being in school at the same time too.**

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**Chapter Seven**

_**Jesse**_

I couldn't believe it. Susannah - the one person I had never wanted to find out about my curse, lest she think I was a freak - was a Mediator too. And Paul knew about it.

He had just given me a whole new reason to hate him.

The news I had just received was life-changing, in a good way, and yet, I couldn't speak. I couldn't respond with the assurances that I could, and did, believe her, as I am also one.

Instead, I sat opposite my querida, as she sat silently, biting her bottom lip and wringing her hands together out of nervousness, with my mouth partially open as I stared at her.

"Susannah." When I finally convinced my mouth to work, it was embarrassing. My voice came out squeaky and hoarse. Like I was a pre-teen all over again. I cleared my throat, and tried again. "Susannah, I -"

Despite my voice being its normal pitch, and the fact that I already had a sentence formed, I couldn't tell her. Though this time it was through no fault of my own.

"Okay," one of the guards shouted. "Time's up visitors."

My eyes widened as I looked at Susannah - she looked as disheartened as I felt, though probably for completely different reasons. I bet she couldn't wait to leave the company of a murderer. She may _say_ that she doesn't believe that I could commit a crime so heinous, but I know that, deep down, she will always see me as a murderer.

"Look, Jesse," she spoke again, her full, red lips forming the words perfectly. "I have to go. Think about what I've told you, okay? I'll be sure to come back and visit you soon."

She was about to hang up the phone as the guards watched her suspiciously.

"Susannah, wait!" I cried.

She hesitated a moment before raising the receiver to her ear once again.

"Thank you," I whispered. "And …" _I love you._ "…Thank you."

I could have kicked myself for my stupidity.

"You're welcome."

Then, with a smile and a flick of her chestnut curls, she was gone. Whilst I was still stuck in the momentary stupor that her presence had forced me to dive into. At least until I was shoved roughly by one of the prison guards.

"Good luck with her," he sneered. "She'd never like the likes of you."

I couldn't help but agree.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

My cell seemed unusually dark upon my returning to it, nothing compared to the bright light of the visiting room - probably not to alert the family members to our true circumstances here. The swelling around my eye had receded slightly, but the throbbing aftermath of pain remained and so I lay down on my cot - for nothing in this place could class as a bed, that implies that it is comfortable - and shut my eyes, blocking out the pain and instead focusing on Susannah's face, her voice, her hair …

There was a boom of laughter at my doorway in the deep voice I knew to be my cellmate's.

"I knew he was going to do this!" Tony so kindly taunted. "Man, I wish I was there to see it."

I glanced at him tiredly.

"Do you mind?"

"Dude, sorry." He continued. "It's just … You look rough man."

I ignored him and shut my eyes once again, leaning my hand back onto arms that were crossed behind my head.

"Hear you had a visitor." I resisted the urge to groan - Tony just didn't know when to shut up. "It wasn't that girl you're always dreaming about, was it? 'Cos I heard along the grapevine that she's Brad's sister. You don't want to give him another reason to … you know. Do that again."

If only he knew she was the reason for this beating. Susannah was the reason behind most of my life's decisions - at least since tenth grade.

His question went unanswered as I continued ignoring him, and he eventually gave up and fell into silence. Or left.

It wasn't long then before I fell asleep. Dreaming of a life I could now never lead.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

When I woke up again, it was dark, my cell doors had been locked and Tony was snoring loudly in the cot next to mine. Loud enough to likely not wake up if I started talking to 'myself'.

"Father Dominic?" I hissed into the dark night. "Padre, where are you?"

Nothing.

"Father Dominic?!"

Maybe Paul had figured out Father Dominic was still _here_ - in this world - and exorcised him. I felt my fear increase as I began to whisper-shout again.

"Father Domin-"

"Jesse, I'm here." He informed me, his form glowing just to the left of me and I turned my head sharply in his direction.

"_Nombre de Dios!_" I exclaimed quietly. "Padre, you scared me."

"I apologise, Jesse." Father Dominic spoke teasingly with a smile on his face and I couldn't help but smile back. He held no grudges towards me, for which I was grateful. "Now what is so urgent?"

"Susannah is a mediator." I told him, waiting for the look of surprise I was sure would come.

Which, of course, meant that none came at all.

"Yes, I know that." Father Dominic responded.

"You knew?!" My only reply was a brief nod. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it would be best for you to find out by yourself." He informed me. "It was not my business who knew of Susannah's blessing, but her own."

"But Paul knew?"

Father Dominic sighed.

"I am afraid that _was_ my fault." He told me. "Susannah had babysat for the Slater family the summer before Paul started at the school. Once I had learned of Paul's mediator status, I assigned Susannah to show him around Carmel. I thought that the two of them could relate to each other - both being new students, being blessed with this gift and neither realising how much of a gift it was."

Incredibly, I felt tears spring to my eyes. I was never one to cry, normally. I think that the last time I had cried was when my grandmother had died back when I was fourteen.

"Father, how could you?" I asked.

"I know," he responded gravely. "It was a decision I have regretted ever since. I only thought …"

His voice trailed off as I thought about how different all of our lives could have been, if only I'd been unafraid of telling Susannah my secret. Our mutual secret. Too much time had already been wasted, and much more was in the process of being lost. Every moment I sat in this cell was one less I could spend with Susannah.

"Father," I rudely cut off what he was saying. "Could you, maybe, go and see Susannah?"

He looked shocked.

"Jesse, I haven't presented myself in my ghost form to her. I fear it would be a nasty shock."

I shook my head, smiling slightly. Knowing Susannah, she'd most probably be happy to see her ex-principal and mentor.

"Please, father." I continued. "I just need you to tell her something for me."

He was debating within himself, I could tell, the pros and cons of my request.

Eventually, in the slowest moment of my life - rivalled only by the time it took the jury to reach their unanimous decision about my fate - he nodded and listened to what I wanted him to convey to Susannah, before disappearing and leaving the prison.

I entertained a brief moment of jealousy as he left - to have the freedom to leave this place at will was a thought too ridiculous to give thought to, by me at least.

Instead, I fell back upon my uncomfortable slab of a mattress and tried to fall asleep again - a difficult feat, considering my heart was humming with the thought of what Susannah's reply would be.


	8. Eight: Suze

**A.N - Hey guys. So sorry. And this isn't a particularly amazing chapter. But I have two weeks off now - the first of which Milie and I are totally alone whilst everyone goes off on various holidays - and I shall try to update as many stories as possible. Next on the update list is With A Rebel Yell, if any of you read that. :)**

**Have a great Easter (for those who celebrate it).**

**-- Meg **

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**Chapter Eight**

_**Suze**_

"Susannah."

I was having this totally weird dream. In it, Paul had paid me a surprise visit at my dorm room and was doing nothing but saying my name in an eerily familiar voice.

"Susannah!"

Only, it wasn't his voice. The voice speaking my name was someone older – you could tell by the slight hoarseness.

I turned in my bed, the duvet wrapping around my shoulders.

It so wasn't Paul speaking. Paul called me 'Suze' not 'Susannah'. There were only two people who called me by my full name. One was in jail, and the other was …

"_Susannah!_"

Dead.

I jerked upwards in my bed and flung to turn the light on so quickly that the sudden brightness hurt my eyes. I squinted into the room.

"Father D?" I asked hesitantly. "Is that really you?"

His familiar mouth twisted in that grin that made his blue eyes sparkle as he nodded at me.

"What are you doing here?" I jumped out of my bed and wrapped my arms around him an impromptu hug. Poor Father D was flustered. I bet he hasn't had too many people fling into his arms since he'd died. Or, you know, ever. "I thought … I thought Paul killed you."

Of course, my mind was too busy focusing on Father D that I failed to notice the soft glow that encompassed his body.

"He did." My old principal nodded gravely before he paused for a second. "What makes you say Paul killed me, Susannah? Jesse is the one in jail for the crime of my murder."

Busted.

"Well, I've kind of been, um, looking around." I spoke quietly. I couldn't have been more obviously guilty if I'd tried. "And I visited Jesse in prison. And I just came to the conclusion that it wasn't him. It was Paul."

His cerulean eyes were unreadable.

"You're right." He murmured quietly to himself, so that I couldn't hear, and I stood by politely as he finished his chat with himself. Well, it was just rude to interrupt.

Finally, he shook his head and refocused his attention on me, just as I was covering a yawn and debating going back to bed, without offending my current ghostly guest.

"I have a message for you." My interest was piqued. The only person who could've given Father D a message was my own father, and he would have come himself if it were important. "From Jesse."

My heart skipped a beat as my throat tightened and my head pounded. There was no way that I heard that right.

_Jesse_ had given a _ghost_ a message for me. That would mean that he was also a mediator. Like Paul and I.

"Yeah?" I acted nonchalant, as if I'd known all along about Jesse's status. "What's that?"

"Well, he says that he wants to help you."

I fought the urge to let my jaw drop in shock. He wants to _help_ me? Not to be mean or anything, but he's kind of in jail. It was up to me to get him out. He couldn't be much help.

"He gave me some information for you, on Paul." Father D continued, his voice cracking a little with Paul's name. It must be hard for him to talk about his murder like this.

"Father, it's okay," I interrupted him. "Really. I'll just go back to the prison and ask Jesse for it myself." Right after I verbally kick his butt for lying to me all these years, as well as for not telling me when I told him earlier. "You don't have to relive this again."

"Susannah, what on earth are you talking about?" Father Dominic looked confused.

I felt embarrassment flood to my cheeks and staining them bright pink. I had the sudden urge to turn the light off again.

"Well," I kicked my foot nervously. "I thought you wouldn't want to talk about your murder. I mean, most ghosts don't like to and …"

"Susannah." Father D sounded tired now. If he were more of a sarcastic person, his eyes would so be rolling. "I have had a bountiful amount of time to come to terms with my death. Believe me, I am quite unaffected by it all."

"So why are you still here?"

I bit my lip as soon as the words left my mouth but I didn't take them back. I'm just curious like that.

His reply was stilted and came after a long pause of silence.

"I suppose," he spoke slowly. "That I do not want young Jesse to suffer for a crime he did not commit."

I nodded slowly, his reason making perfect sense to me. Heck, I felt the same way. The reason I was going through all of this was to get Jesse out of that jail cell.

"So…" I drew his attention back to his original purpose. "You had something to tell me?"

"Ah, yes. Jesse wanted me to say to you 'look in the box under Paul's bed'."

I waited for more.

Nothing came.

"That's it?"

"I believe so, yes."

I mentally groaned. However vague a statement that actually was – I tell you, Jesse is so lucky I love him, else he'd have been killed by me years ago before he drove me insane – I had to follow up on it.

Which meant only one thing.

I had to go back to Scenic Drive.

I hated that place.

"Did he say what to look out for?"

I saw the look of concentration etch upon the priest's face.

He shook his head sadly before going on to speak.

"I can only assume that Jesse believes there may be some sort of incriminating evidence in this aforementioned box."

My eyes widened as my mind worked overdrive to figure out what would be in this box.

Well laid plans, Father Dominic's time table, a heart-felt diary entry, writing his pain for the deed he had committed whilst another took the blame …

Yeah, maybe not. This was Paul we're talking about. He'd always known how to cover his tracks, or at least charm his way out of detention.

I sighed.

"Well, tell Jesse thanks." I smiled at him. "I'll be sure to check it out. Anything else?"

The ghost paused, obviously arguing with himself over another message.

"No, that's all."

I nodded, accepting his answer before I leaned to kiss him quickly on the cheek, throwing my arms around him, again, in another hug.

"Thank you, for coming here." I whispered. "It was good to see you."

He smiled down at me fondly.

"Take care of yourself, Susannah."

He disappeared then, the room seeming unnaturally large and cold in his absence.

A shiver shuddered through me as I jumped under my vacated covers, the urge to warm myself fast overtaking any other thought in my mind that moment.

It was clear though, as I fell asleep, what I would be doing with my day tomorrow.

It was time to get _real_ cosy with Paul Slater.


	9. Nine: Jesse

**A.N - I'm sorry about the delay for this, really. I'm just not as interested in writing it as I am with some of my other stories. It takes this long to get update because I'd rather wait until I like what I'm writing than forcing a chapter out.**

**:)**

**Hope you guys are still with me anyway. And Mysterious Girl should be updated later today.**

* * *

********

Chapter Nine

_**Jesse**_

Twenty-four hours: The time that had passed whilst I anxiously awaited my messenger's return.

The time that had passed whilst I waited to hear a response that could potentially make everything I had suffered worthwhile.

But it was also the amount of time that Susannah had had in order to take action with the information I had given her.

And it was that thought, more than any other, which had me bouncing my knee nervously.

Thankfully, my cellmate was once again asleep, and therefore was unaware of the agitation flowing through my veins.

When the ethereal glow belonging to any ghost flashed in the corner of the cell, it caught my attention immediately. I jumped up and practically sprinted – or the equivalent that such a small space would allow – towards the figure of Father Dominic.

"Padre!" I exclaimed, my anxiety forcing my voice to sound hoarse and strained. "What did she say?"

"Well, er," he paused and I felt that, if we'd been back in his principal's office at the mission - and he'd been alive - then he'd have reached for his forever unopened packet of cigarettes. "Susannah said that she'd, um, take a look."

I paused expectantly, heart racing in fear and exhilaration.

"And?"

"And, that was all."

My world came crashing down around me as I felt the wind knock out of my chest as if I'd been kicked. I had to fall down onto my cot in despair.

That was all?

_That was all?!_

Susannah didn't say anything about what had had me nervous all day? Nothing to reply with.

I thought that … I was so sure that …

Groaning, my head fell into my hands.

"Nothing else was said?" I clarified, my eyes never leaving his face.

Father Dominic shook his head gravely.

"Nothing else was said," he repeated, his eyes darting away from my own intense glare. "By both parties."

That floored me.

And simultaneously raised my hopes once again.

"You didn't tell her that I loved her?"

However annoyed I was at Father Dominic, I was more relieved that Susannah hadn't said she didn't love me in return. I was still blissfully unaware of her true feelings.

"I felt that it would be best coming from you, Jesse."

I could see the reasoning behind that, I supposed.

It's just … with me in here, for an undecipherable amount of time, and Paul - a murderer, completely unpredictable and determined - out there, fighting to take Susannah away from me …

I had to tell her when I next had the opportunity. She had to know before she went to Paul and looked in that blasted box like I'd told her to.

"Did she say what she was going to do today?"

My words came out more harsh than I had originally intended.

"I cannot tell you what she was going to do _today_, exactly." He informed me. "Only that she would 'check it out'."

I can only assume that Father Dominic's eyes widening was in response to my face dramatically paling.

"Jesse, what's wrong?"

Forcing myself to calm down, I took a deep breath.

"You're sure she didn't say when?"

If she had already been to Paul Slater's house, and seen the box … Paul would not be happy. He'd want to know _how_ she knew. And then he'd know about us.

"Good Lord, Jesse," Father Dominic inhaled sharply. "You don't have to be _worried_ about Susannah. She is quite capable of taking care of herself." He paused reflectively. "Susannah has proven _that_ on any number of occasions."

His words were working. I chose to believe him on the grounds that he had been the one that knew of all of her Mediator tasks, not I. Father Dominic would know how good Susannah was at getting out of tricky situations.

"Yeah, okay." I nodded and stood again, having regained my composure. "I trust her." I smiled widely. "I love her."

Father Dominic smiled appreciatively and shimmered slightly, looking ready to disappear.

"Hey, _Padre_?" He paused, looking over at me. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome, Hector." He smiled at me once more before vanishing into the darkness.

I was left with the comforting snores belonging to Tony echoing in the cell as I thought desperately about Susannah's safety.

And Paul's tendency to hurt those he felt knew him too well.

* * *

"Get up."

Despite having been hearing it for over a year, I'd never really gotten used to _Tony_ being the one to wake me up.

"Come on, man. You have a visitor."

Fully awake, I jumped up, anxiously awaiting the guard to take me to Susannah - or so I assumed.

"I don't know why you're getting so many these days." He shook his head. "You can't have that many friends left, considering why you're here."

I clenched my teeth and refused to retaliate.

Luckily, I was taken away and handcuffed before my cellmate had a chance to reply in his usual sarcastic manner.

Unceremoniously, I was pushed into the dreaded stiff chair and I picked up the phone to my side, glaring at the guard in an attempt to hide my excitement.

Paul Slater's grinning face successfully quenched my good mood.

"What do you want?"

Paul merely laughed, grinning at me maliciously.

"I just wanted to let you know," he leaned in conspiratorially closer, not that it mattered. "Susannah stayed the night last night."

He leaned back in his chair, satisfied, whilst my heart started to shatter.

"Yeah," he sneered. "I thought you might appreciate that."

"You leave her alone, Slater." I growled. "I swear, if you touch her, I'll -"

"You'll what?" he challenged, bored. "Talk me to death? There's nothing else you can do, is there _Rico Suave_? You're in there."

His blue eyes glinted.

"And me? I'm out here. In beautiful, sunny Carmel-by-the-Sea." He looked around the stark white room, obvious glee in his eyes. "And I have Susannah waiting for me in my bed."

My hand clenched around the receiver I was holding to my ear.

"But I'll leave you with this final thought," Paul scraped his chair backwards, standing up abruptly as I clung to our form of connection for his words. "I didn't say that she was there _willingly_."

He winked at my ashen-coloured face, knowing the signs of my anger about to spiral out of control.

"Hey," he shrugged. "You only have yourself to blame."

Then, he hung up.

My rage was boiling inside of me like froth, bubbling to the surface. I wanted to get my hands on Paul Slater and beat him to oblivion for even daring to _think_ about what he'd implied had happened to my querida.

And, one way or another, Paul Slater was going to pay.


	10. Ten: Suze

**A.N - Okay, I know where I'm going with this now. xD Yay!**

**Bear with me though.**

**This goes to Emily - my good friend who decided to go camping tonight. Please don't break a leg by tomorrow! :) (I love you really. Platonically, of course).**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

_**Suze**_

Waking up the next morning made the events of last night … surreal to say the least.

But I _knew_ it was real. It was too strange not to be.

So, with that in mind, I picked up my phone and dialled Paul's cell quickly, otherwise I'd change my mind.

I fidgeted nervously as I waited for him to answer, cursing myself when I noticed the time – I was running late.

Pulling myself out of the bed, I tucked the phone under my chin and rummaged through my wardrobe.

"Hello?"

"Aw, crap," I muttered when I realised the shirt I wanted to wear had a stain on the front.

"Just the way every guy wants to be greeted," Paul joked.

I froze. I hadn't even heard him answer.

"Hey, Paul." I backtracked. "Sorry! I was just – "

"I forgive you." He laughed. "Why'd you call?"

"Oh, yeah. I was just wondering," I debated quickly the idea of not going through with this after all. But, one thought of Jesse locked behind bars innocently had me determinedly speaking again. "Do you want to, maybe, meet up tonight?"

"Yeah," Paul's voice sounded cool, but even I could hear the colour of surprise that lurked beneath the disaffected tone. "I'll make a reservation for eight?"

"Actually," I zipped up my jacket and grabbed my keys. "I was wondering if we could do something a bit more … intimate." I bit my lip before continuing. "Maybe, go to your house?"

"Sure." He agreed and this time I could practically see the smirk spread across his lips. "Come round by seven, then?"

"It's a date." I spoke flirtatiously and Paul and I said goodbye before I hung up and shut my eyes as I closed my door.

What had I just done?

* * *

I couldn't remember ever going to Paul's house before. Strange, I know, considering there was that whole 'Paul-is-a-mediator-and-you-must-show-him-the-ropes' thing Father Dominic forced on me.

Oh, wait, there was that one time in eleventh grade – that didn't end too well.

But, since that one time – when I really only saw Paul's bedroom – the Slater household remained a mystery to me.

One that I, apparently, wasn't going to be able to solve any time soon. Especially since, by the time seven rolled around and I turned up at Paul's house, I was led straight up to his room once again.

And when Paul shut the door behind us, instantly pinned me against it and kissed me – I wasn't surprised.

This _was_ Paul after all.

It wasn't long before he moved us to the bed and I was thrown back two years to when this happened the first time round.

"Mmm, Paul?" I mumbled, pulling away from him. He was unfazed, moving his lips to my throat instead. I fought the urge to scream 'ew'. "I'm kind of thirsty – can you get me a drink of water?"

"Sure, Suze." He smiled and pressed a light – you could almost call it sweet – kiss to my lips. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here."

The wide smile on my face vanished instantly the second Paul shut the door behind him.

Okay, I told myself. What was it Jesse had said? The box under Paul's bed.

I flipped over on my stomach and twisted to look underneath the bed. The box was there, just as Jesse had said.

"Thank you." I whispered to him, even though I knew he couldn't hear.

Unfortunately the box held little information. It was just a bunch of old newspapers.

"Here you go Suze," Paul announced, shouldering his way back into the room with two bottle of cold water in his hands. His face fell when he saw me. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I got bored without you," I lied. "I was just looking around your room. What are these, by the way?"

"Don't you know?"

He handed me my water and I gulped greedily, happy that I had seemingly managed to evade his suspicions. Taking the bottle away from my mouth, I shook my head slowly.

"I guess I didn't show you back when I moved here then," he chuckled, messing his hair with his fingers. "Must've been De Silva."

The mention of his name had my heart skipping a beat but I refused to show it outwardly – I caught Paul watching me from the corner of his eye.

Obviously satisfied, Paul leaned back on his hands, putting one arm around my back as he leaned closer towards me to look at the papers on my lap.

"This, Suzie, explains to us the wonderful world of time travel."

"Seriously?" I wasn't convinced.

He sighed.

"Yes, Suze."

Paul then proceeded to explain to me the particulars, and stuff about people called 'shifters'.

It took me ten minutes to figure out why Jesse had wanted me to know this information. But, when I finally did realise, I made the biggest mistake ever.

"Jesse."

I whispered his name.

Paul froze, his hand clenching on the bed sheet behind me.

"What?"

"I, um," I was stuttering. Having already made the mistake, I couldn't backtrack. "Um, I was just. I –"

"Save it."

Paul's voice was harsh, his eyes cold as steel.

"Is he why?" He demanded. "Is _Jesse_ the reason that you've been dating me?"

Silently, I nodded. There was no point in even trying to get out of this.

With a roar of outrage, Paul pushed me down on the bed and pinned my body with his. I tried to struggle, to push him away, but he was freakishly strong … and angry.

"Why?" He shouted. "Why him? You've always only ever been interested in _him_."

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I defiantly stared him in the eyes and spoke clearly:

"I love him."

Angrily, Paul pushed away from me and began pacing the room.

"Always him." He repeated. "I get him locked away and _still_…"

I started at the open admission of Jesse's innocence. Paul, however, remained oblivious to the fact that he'd given anything away at all – obviously deciding that it didn't matter if I knew the truth or not.

I didn't know if that made me feel better or not.

"No matter what you have planned," Paul told me, still walking the length of his room repeatedly. "It's not going to work. I'm not going to let it."

It sounded more like he was speaking to himself than me. So, I took an opportunity and sprang off the bed and towards the door – I had to get out of here.

Unfortunately, Paul was faster and he slammed the door shut before twisting my hands painfully behind my back.

"Oh, no, _querida_," he mocked. "You're not going anywhere."

My hands were tied behind me with something that I didn't even want to know why Paul had it lying around his room.

"Sweet dreams."

He grinned, almost as if nothing was wrong and pushed me backwards onto his large bed before switching off the lights and casting me in the darkness.

I was alone.

But I wasn't going to give up.


	11. Eleven: Suze

**A.N - Reviews have been dropping for this story. Which, you know, I don't mind - it got a bit boring those last few chapters.**

**But this one you guys have got to have something to say about. :)**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

_**Suze**_

Surprisingly, I fell asleep. Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the _best_ night's sleep I'd ever had – but it was sleep.

Paul woke me up the next morning when he slammed the front door shut behind as he left.

There was a note on the pillow next to me:

_Gone to see Rico Suave – to tell him you spent the night  
__Should be fun,  
__Paul._

I groaned in despair – that was all that Jesse needed right now, Paul taunting him with made-up stories.

Painfully sitting up, I stretched my hands behind me and noticed the rope that was binding them together was loosening. And, once I knew that, it didn't take long for the rope to fall away completely.

I was going to leave, to go to the jail, evade Paul, and tell Jesse exactly what had happened – and ask him to help me get him out of jail.

But then I remembered everything Paul had told me last night – and I mean _everything_.

Including that time travel thing.

Which was when I decided that I was going to travel back and save him – before he needed saving.

* * *

I was clutching Paul's shirt in my hands as I walked into the Mission rectory later that day.

Paul had told me that in order to travel through the fourth dimension, you needed something to anchor yourself to the time. Which is why I grabbed his shirt. He was there at the time, after all, and I knew he'd had this shirt since I'd first met him – strange though, considering Paul is so the type of person to change his wardrobe with the seasons.

I followed his instructions exactly. And, when I found myself in the mission courtyard where I ate lunch as a high-schooler, Paul's shirt in my hand, I closed my eyes and pictured that night, one year ago when I stood in shock watching the love of my life taken away in handcuffs.

Only, earlier in the night. I didn't want to travel through time and get there too late.

That would be completely pointless.

* * *

"_Paul," _I heard Jesse hiss._ "Seriously now, do you have any idea what you're about to do?"_

I must have made it.

Taking a deep breath, I quietly followed the voices.

It wasn't long before I saw the glint of a gun. And the golden highlights in Paul's hair.

And he was raising his gun, ready to aim.

At Jesse.

"No!" I screamed, running forwards to the two boys outside the mission church.

The look on both go their faces would've been comical – if it wasn't for the situation we were in.

"Susannah?" Jesse's voice was incredulous and his face was unnaturally pale. "What are you doing here?"

Paul, on the other hand, just laughed.

"Just stopping by, Suze?" He asked, gesturing in my direction with the gun. "Or are you going to stick around?"

"Don't you point that gun at her." Jesse warned.

Paul rolled his eyes.

"Bored now, come on Jesse." He walked towards the church doors. "We have a job to do."

I watched as Jesse sighed and followed him.

"Jesse, what are you doing?" I asked hesitantly. "You don't have to go with him. You don't have to be a part of this."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

Paul called back over his shoulder.

"Because he doesn't want you to know that he's a mediator too."

I was confused.

"But, I know. I told him…"

It was as Jesse's eyes widened that I realised I hadn't actually told him. Well, I had, but a year into the future. God, this time travel stuff was confusing.

Shaking my head, I continued.

"The point is, Jesse. I know you are." I smiled. "I am too." I put my hands on his arms and took a step closer to him. "And I know how this ends too – you're going to go to jail, Jesse. You helped me save you."

Needless to say, Jesse was confused. Especially when I leaned upwards and caught his lips with my own. Thankfully, Jesse wasted no time in wrapping his arms around me and kissing me back.

The feeling was … incredible. His arms were warm and strong and protective. And his lips …

Wow.

Paul wasn't quite as happy as the two of us, though.

"Always, _always_ him!" He screamed, turning his attention to the two of us and I recalled having a conversation almost identical to this just last night. "Why has it only ever been Jesse that you're interested in."

I bit my lip and looked away – it was a bit embarrassing to admit that I'd loved Jesse since I'd moved to Carmel.

"Tell you what, maybe I should just _eliminate the competition_, so to speak."

My eyes widened as Jesse tightened his grip on me.

"Paul, don't do anything you'll regret." I pleaded. "Please. You've called the police, remember?"

"Oh, I won't regret this." Paul tightened his grip on the gun and held it at Jesse's heart.

"Paul," Jesse was scared – I could tell – but he didn't show it. His voice didn't once waver. "Put down the gun."

The flashing red and blue lights could be seen in our peripheral vision whilst the distant sound of sirens grew ever louder.

"Jesse?" Father Dominic's voice joined the conversation, from behind Paul. "Is that you?"

"Father D, stay back!" I warned, all too aware of what had happened last time around.

"Yeah, Father D," Paul continued. "You wouldn't want to get any of Jesse's blood on you."

It was an instinctive decision. I didn't think – I just acted. Paul's finger tightened on the trigger and set it off. I pushed Jesse out of the way and took the bullet myself.

The pain spiralled from the epicentre in my shoulder to all over my body.

I fell to the floor.

Jesse was by my side in an instant - his hands were running through my hair as he screamed for somebody to call an ambulance. I heard Father Dominic's voice and saw Paul's shocked expression as his hand remained frozen in front of him, gun shaking with Paul's fear.

"Shift her back." He whispered, voice emotionless. "You have to Jesse."

His hands never left me once. They were smoothing my hair, my cheeks. Applying pressure to my gun wound.

"But, I've never –"

"Just do it!" Paul's fear for my safety was evident. "She has to get back to her time – we can't have two Suze's here."

He shook his head.

"Just do it," he repeated. "I'll explain it later."

The next thing I felt was that strange feeling I got when I shifted here to begin with before feeling my body hit the ground with a thud and Jesse's soft voice was in my ear.

"You're going to be fine, Susannah." His voice was strangely comforting, drifting me to sleep. "I promise you."


	12. Twelve: Jesse

**A.N - You can so tell that I don't plan my stories, and that's how I end up with like twelve or thirteen chapters on average. As it is, this story stands to finish next chapter but I have this thing about not wanting to end on an unlucky number, so, maybe there will be a Chapter Fourteen just a random Epilogue of fluff.**

**Whatever. Just an idea. (:**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

_**Jesse**_

I hated hospitals – always have done.

I hated them even more now that the woman I loved was laying on an operation table, a bullet wound in her shoulder.

I paced the waiting room agitatedly, my thoughts were still lost in the events of that night.

Paul had shown up, demanding that tonight was the night and dragged me away from my college dorm room.

Only, when we got to the mission, Susannah had shown up, claiming to be a mediator before pushing me away from Paul's shot and taking it herself. Paul shouted at me to shift back to the future and call an ambulance.

Which left me … where?

There were two Jesse De Silva's here. What happened to the other me, now that I was here?

My unasked question was answered with the arrival of one Adam McTavish, my roommate. He ran into the ER, my limp body hanging in his arms, pale.

I ducked my head away as I caught his explanation.

"He just collapsed," Adam's voice was panicked. "He's not breathing but his heart is still beating – really faintly."

Picking up a magazine, I buried my face behind it and walked past my limp body, brushing against it.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in Adam's arms, my memory fully aware of the past year that I didn't remember living. I remembered that night – Paul getting arrested for attempted manslaughter and Father Dominic receiving an armful of Susannah in her worry for him.

She told me afterwards that she was a mediator and we'd gotten together – became inseparable on campus.

But now she was on that operating table and I still didn't know if she was going to make it or not.

"Dude!" Adam exclaimed in relief. "What happened?"

I stood up and staggered before regaining my balance and shaking my head.

"Sorry, man." I fought to find an excuse. "Must've been stress, or something."

"Yeah," Adam laughed awkwardly. "Must've been. Man, you're lucky Suze wasn't around – she'd have been out of her mind with worry."

It seemed too ironic that it was actually the other way around.

"Hey, where is Suze anyway?"

I ran my fingers through my hair.

"She's in the Operating Room," I told him. "She was shot."

Adam's mouth dropped open as he whipped out his cell phone and rang his girlfriend Cee Cee, Suze's best friend.

"Dude, by who?" He asked me around his conversation to his girlfriend, possibly even for her.

"Paul Slater."

Adam laughed then.

"He's been in jail since that whole thing last year – I can't believe you don't remember that. He almost framed you."

_Díos_, I forgot about that.

"Oh, yeah," I laughed shakily. "Guess it still disturbs me a bit. It was a mugger – must've just reminded me of it and I got confused."

Adam looked worried.

"Are you sure you don't need to be checked out? You know, for shock?"

Adam paused for a second.

"Wait a minute, how do you know what happened to Suze?" He asked. "You collapsed at the dorm."

I sighed, knowing I had to tell him my biggest secret now.

But, hey, he couldn't think I was any weirder than he did already.

* * *

Two hours passed, Cee Cee arrived, and still I paced nervously, waiting for news on Susannah.

In the interim, Adam had sat silently as I told him all about being a mediator, and that Paul, Father Dominic and even Susannah was one also. He interrupted me only once, to ask a question which I answered before continuing. To say he'd been accepting would be an understatement, he found the whole thing 'totally awesome'. Which left him dreaming of what it would be like if he could see ghosts, and me worrying about Susannah.

Please say she's all right, please say she's all right, please say …

"Is anyone waiting for Susannah Simon?"

I raised my hand and explained that I was her boyfriend and thought idly that maybe somebody should've informed Susannah's family.

"Susannah's operation was a success," the surgeon told me. "We retrieved the bullet and closed the wound. She's in the recovery room now, a bit groggy from the medication but you're free to see her."

I practically raced the man to where Susannah was and the second I saw her beautiful emerald eyes half asleep with shock and exhaustion, my heart calmed to a regular beat.

Racing towards her side, I picked up her hand and gently touched the place where the bullet had entered, careful not to hurt her.

"Oh, Thank God," I choked out through the tears. "You're okay."

She smiled weakly.

"Hey, I'm tough."

"Yeah, you are."

I kissed her cheek softly.

"Never, _ever_ do that again, Susannah!" I warned. "You almost gave me a heart attack. And, just as I was about to phone an ambulance, Paul tells me to shift back to the future – something I've never done before!"

Susannah frowned.

"What did happen to Paul afterwards?"

I let my face furrow in confusion.

"I don't know." I admitted honestly. "I was too worried about you to ask about him."

"Hey, Jesse?" She asked quietly. "Does this mean that we're together? Because, you know, we kind of weren't."

I laughed.

"Actually, according to my memories of the past year, we've been together since … that night. I think it would be too suspicious if we stop now."

She agreed and raised her eyebrow flirtatiously.

"Hey, do you think we should maybe practice?"

I raised my eyebrow.

"Practice, what exactly, _querida_?"

"Being a couple." She paused. "Duh."

I smirked.

"I don't think so. Not with you still recuperating from surgery and your body exhausted from a trip to the past and back."

Her eyes were barely open as well, and, call me old-fashioned, but I wanted her to actually remember our first kiss.

She pouted.

"No fair."

I laughed again.

"I'll be right here when you wake up again."

Her eyes drooped shut and I chose to sit in the chair next to her bed, clutching her hand in my own.

I didn't intend to go anywhere.

It had taken Susannah and I _years _to get together – I wasn't leaving her now.


	13. Thirteen: Jesse

**A.N - Just an Epilogue left now guys. I'll try to get it up later on in the week. Seeing as I'm doing nothing but writing (Four new stories, scattered across the fanfiction boards. One for here, one for RENT, one for Instant Star and one for the Mortal Instruments trilogy by Cassandra Clare, though that has to go in Misc. Books. But, never fear, I'm not abandoning you - I have another two story ideas for Mediator on top of that).**

**xD**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing - I love you guys!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Jesse**_

Susannah had told me not to come here, to stay with her as she recuperated in hospital.

But I had to. I had to see Paul.

For all he'd put me through – in high school and in the year of my life that never happened, but Susannah had told me about.

In spite of how incredibly clichéd it was, I needed the closure of seeing him locked away.

When I was shown into a seat, I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to be on the other side of this plastic window.

The thought forced a shiver down my spine.

A harsh knock brought me out of my musings and I jerked my head upwards to find Paul raising an eyebrow at me with a pointed look towards the phone.

"It's about time you got round to paying me a visit." Paul scoffed. "It's been a year."

I rolled my eyes.

"And I had every reason to run here and say 'hi,'" came my response.

Paul's hardened look suddenly grew softer.

"How is she?"

There was no need to clarify as to who 'she' was. We both knew.

I narrowed my eyes into slits, glaring at the man who'd put my darling querida into hospital.

"She's fine," I told him. "No thanks to you."

The mention of what Paul had done obviously served to guilt him.

"You don't understand," he covered his eyes and rubbed his temples as if in pain. "I had to wait a _year and a half_, Jesse. A year and a half before I found out if I'd …"

His blue eyes were tainted with the guilt of what he'd done.

"I couldn't shift her home and find out if she'd survive in the same night." Paul's anger grew. "Eighteen months I've been in this cell, waiting, hoping, suffering the plague of nightmares …"

"Why?"

My voice was cold.

"What?" Paul's was incredulous.

"Why did you tell me to shift back?" I insisted. "Surely you didn't want to get caught for your crime … you'd rather Susannah die to save yourself."

"Never," he swore vehemently. "I love her, Jesse. You have no idea what it's like –"

I couldn't hear anymore.

I knew _exactly_ what it was like. I'd loved Susannah for _years_ and I'd had to watch her spend time with the likes of Bryce Martinson and Paul Slater. Sure, I hadn't had to wait a year and a half to find out if the woman I was in love with survived a bullet wound … but I also wasn't stupid enough to shoot her in the first place.

I hung up the phone that connected us without another word.

Angrily, Paul whacked the plastic window repeatedly, shouting words I couldn't hear whilst his face screwed up in anger.

I watched as the guards came to escort Paul back to his cell, his fury so strong he lashed out at them in an effort to get back to me.

Silently, I stood up and left the visiting room, eager to return to Susannah rather than stay with Paul.

* * *

She was sleeping when I returned to the hospital. Considering that she was sleeping when I left, I didn't know if she'd been awake in the time I'd gone.

"She was asking about you." Adam informed me. "Wanted to know where you went."

I groaned and closed my eyes.

"And you said?"

"That you'd gone to see Paul." He paused. "She was pissed."

I nodded and fixed him with a tired glare.

"You think?"

"Sorry, dude."

Sighing, I waved him away.

"It doesn't matter."

With a nod, Adam left and I was alone with Susannah once again. I sat in the familiar seat next to her bed, slouched down and took her hand in mine, softly running my thumb over her knuckles.

She was so beautiful – I'd always thought so, even when I'd admired her from afar back in high school. Even now, pale as she was from her lack of exposure to the California sun as well as the shock of what she'd been through, her brown hair lay around her in soft waves and I could picture the emerald eyes she was hiding perfectly.

Standing up, I leaned over to kiss her forehead lingeringly.

We had yet to have our first real kiss – odd, really, when you think about what we'd gone through together. I was adamant, however, that we wait until Susannah was perfectly well again.

"You shouldn't have gone." Her soft voice startled me and I pulled my lips away from her forehead with a sigh. "I asked you not to."

"I know."

"Why did you then?"

Her question was simple enough, but it was still one I found difficult answering.

"I just … had to." I tried explaining. "I needed to see him … punished. For everything he'd done."

Susannah shut her eyes and sighed.

"Jesse, I didn't want you to see him for a reason." She continued when I perked up my eyebrow in confusion. "I _hated _seeing you in there. Knowing Paul was there in your place … I just couldn't deal with it. I thought that if you went, eventually you'd try and get me to go too."

"Susannah, querida," I took her hand in both my own whilst I bored my gaze into hers. "I would _never_ make you do something that you didn't want to._ Ever_."

I stared at her with everything in me to someway make her believe what I was saying.

"You have to know that."

There was a pause before she smiled.

"I do." She kissed my lips lightly. "I know. And I love you."

"I love you too." I laughed. "It's a shame it took us all of this to realise, huh?"

"You should have noticed me back in high school," she joked. "I was crazy about you."

My laughter stopped, mid-chuckle.

"You're joking, right?"

Her face grew serious too.

"No." Her tone did too. "Why?"

I groaned.

"I was crazy about you back then too!" I couldn't believe our luck. "We wasted so much time."

Susannah pouted, her soft pink lip jutting out temptingly.

"Well, that sucks."

"We'll just have to make up for that, won't we?"

Her answering smile told me everything I needed to know.


	14. Epilogue: Suze

**A.N - Here it is guys, the very cheesy end to my otherwise quite angsty story. Hope you like it.**

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**Epilogue**

_Eight Years Later_

_**Suze**_

"Hey, Jesse." I leaned over and kissed my husband on the cheek. "Did you get one too?"

"Yeah," He leaned his head back over the chair he was sitting on and caught my lips. "Can you believe it?"

I shook my head in the negative as I sat on the chair next to him, snuggling into his chest as I looked down at the paper in my hand.

_The Junipero Serra Mission Academy wishes to invite you  
__Susannah De Silva  
__To your 10__th__ High School Reunion on_

The rest of the notice was just dates and times but it was still a scary thought – going back to high school was always a scary thought.

"Do you want to go?" I asked him.

"Are you kidding me?" He wrapped his arms around me excitedly. "Of course! I have to show off my family!"

I smiled as his hand came to rest on my barely showing stomach. In five months time, Jesse will have a baby girl to fawn over. And I know he will, judging by how he reacted to his son, now two.

Rolling my eyes, I kissed his cheek.

"I guess I have to go shopping then."

Jesse just laughed and jokingly called for me to not spend _too_ much.

* * *

Not having an actual hall in the Mission to host an event like this, a room had been rented in the Pebble Beach Hotel and Golf Resort where I'd worked every summer from when I'd moved here until when I joined college.

"Oh, my gosh," I clutched Jesse's arm where my arm rested in the crook of his elbow. "It looks so beautiful."

Jesse merely smiled, used, by now, to my easily amazed ways. He kissed my cheek in an attempt to placate me.

"Oh, thank God!" Debbie Mancuso dragged my stepbrother behind her as she darted towards us. "You two are together. _Finally!_"

We just smiled at each other.

"About time." Brad wasn't impressed. He'd heard this story a thousand times. Or, you know, his girlfriend was tiring. "So, like, when did you, you know, hook up?"

Jesse wrapped an arm around my shoulder proudly.

"Oh, eig-" I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. "Nine years."

"Wow." Debbie's eyes widened. "So, just after high school?"

We nodded.

"And you're…?" She trailed off, waiting for us to fill in the gaps.

"Happily married." I filled in.

"With a son." Jesse input and I rolled my eyes. He was such a _dad_. "And a daughter on the way."

"I'm so happy for you guys!" Debbie, shockingly, walked forward and hugged me. "And so jealous of you, Suze." She whispered in my ear. "Jesse is gorgeous."

I laughed loudly.

"Thank you." I smiled. "Excuse us."

Jesse's arm moved from my shoulders to my waist and rested his hand on my stomach.

"Sheesh, Jess," I scolded. "Could you get any more protective."

But he wasn't listening to me; his eyes had narrowed on something – or, rather, someone – across the room.

And the next thing I knew, Paul Slater was walking towards us, having left his date for the evening (Debbie's best friend Kelly Prescott, of course) to talk to us.

"Yes," he spoke through gritted teeth as his arm tightened. "I think I can."

I hadn't seen Paul since he'd been in jail and I'd been allowed to leave the hospital. Making this the first time I'd seen him in a _while_.

"Hey Suze," he greeted sheepishly. "Jesse."

"Paul." Jesse nodded in his direction, not giving me chance to speak.

The scar he'd left in my shoulder started to itch, as if it knew that its cause was standing in front of me. I raised my hand to rub it self-consciously.

"How are you Suze?" He pointedly looked at where my hand was, obviously noticing my discomfort.

"I'm fine." I smiled widely and falsely. "Just dandy."

He raised his eyebrow at me, obviously not believing me but choosing not to push.

"So, when did you get out of the slammer?" Jesse's question was spoken coldly.

Judging by Paul's shifty and guilty behaviour, it was hard to remember that he'd ever been the cocky teenager he once was. Jail had really done a number on him.

"Um, a few months ago?" His hand shakily travelled through his hair. "Look, Suze, I'm really sorry, for everything –"

Jesse's hand flexed on my stomach, drawing Paul's attention to his wedding ring, as well as my swollen stomach,

"Oh," his shock was evident and his tone monotonous. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Jesse's voice was warm, proud of his family.

"How long?"

"We've been married four years," I told him. "We had our first son two years ago."

"And another one on the way?"

"A girl," Jesse smiled.

"Congratulations." Paul repeated.

"I think," I began slowly. "That you should maybe go back to Kelly now?"

He nodded and moved to walk away from us, only stopping when I called his name softly. When he turned to face me, I hugged him quickly.

"Thank you." He mouthed at me, nodding and then leaving again.

"You," I mock-scolded my husband, whacking his chest lightly. "Play nice."

Jesse rolled his eyes tiredly at me.

"Yes ma'am," he quipped stoically before relenting and pressing a light kiss to my lips.

"How's Cris, do you reckon?"

"He'll be fine," Jesse calmed me. "You know Adam will look after him – he does have a child of his own, you know."

I smiled as I thought about Cee Cee and Adam's child, Isabelle. She was adorable, and part of the reason that Jesse and I had wanted to try for another.

"I hope they're getting on." Jesse played the role of the cool dad. I, on the other hand, was the worried mom. "You know, Adam and Izzy and Cristiano."

"They'll be fine, querida. I promise."

"I guess you're right." Sighing, I leaned into Jesse's chest. "I guess it's lucky that Cee Cee has that business trip this weekend. I couldn't think about leaving Cris with a stranger."

Jesse didn't even try to tell me that we would have left him with my mom, or his sisters – the youngest of which were sixteen, and desperate for money. He knew that I knew it, just as he knew that I knew I was overreacting.

"And when little Lorena Jaid comes along, she'll be fine too."

"Lorena Jaid?" The name fell off of my lips smoothly, already comfortable being there.

"Yeah," Jesse smiled and directed us towards the seats, kissing my stomach softy when we were sat down. "I mean, if you like it."

"Jesse," I sighed and looked up at him happily. "I love it!"

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder protectively and comfortably. I loved being in his embrace. It made me feel so safe and warm. Like I was home.

"Lorena Jaid De Silva," I tested the name happily. "It has a ring to it, don't you think?"


End file.
